Sick Day
by BananaB0mb
Summary: It seems like not even a master thief can take a day off, when his favourite Inspector is getting herself into trouble. Two-shot.
1. Sick Day I

**I think it's about time I did something less serious, and 'dark.' So here we are. I'm generally drawn to writing more serious, and angstier stuff for some reason, but I also have a soft spot for reading cute stories, haha. This will be my attempt. I apologize if it doesn't live up to most people's expectations, or if it's clichéd or whatever.**

**Should probably say this takes place somewhere between Sly 1, and Sly 2. Onwards then.**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sly Cooper and friends. They are owned by SuckerPunch.

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**Sick Day I**

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Sly Cooper hated being sick.

He hated being confined to his bed, he hated all the coughing, and sneezing he did, and he _especially_ hated being forced to chug down copious amounts of medicine. It was as though those medical companies did what they could to make their medication taste horribly, just to spite, and punish those who were ill. He glared at the bottle of cough syrup on the bedside table, wishing every type of punishment he could imagine upon in.

At the moment, he laid buried under at least 3 blankets, sniffling, and miserable. The cough he had was probably the worst of it, seeing as whenever he had some sort of attack, he'd be left wheezing slightly, and breathless. Sly sorely wished that he had something to entertain himself with, seeing as Bentley absolutely refused to let him leave his room, or bed. Sly had begged, and pleaded as much as he could with the turtle, but being the germaphobe Bentley was, he refused to even hear of Sly leaving the 'quarantine zone'.

Hell, even Murray was avoiding him at the moment, and the only times Sly had even seen his friends, was when they brought him some sort of soup, or tea.

Sighing to himself, Sly grabbed another tissue, and sneezed into it. His throat felt like it was on fire, and no matter how much water or tea he drank, it did nothing to put out the burning sensation.

_I'm bored._

In a sudden fit of energy, he clawed the blankets off himself, and sat up in his bed. His room wasn't exactly the most interesting, seeing as he didn't own many possessions. The only thing he really kept around was his cane, which was currently standing against his bed, and the Thievius Raccoonnus, which he'd hidden away from prying eyes. The book was his pride and joy, and Sly would be _damned_, if he let it escape from his grasp again. It'd only been a scant few months since he'd gotten the book back into its full form, and the raccoon thief barely let it out of his sights. He shuddered at the memory of Clockwerk, but pushed the memories away. Luckily, the fever he had was low enough where he wasn't delusional, and having nightmares of the owl; but it didn't make Sly feel any less sweaty, and he would generally suffer shivers that came out of no where.

Suddenly, his eye was drawn to a small radio that he kept tucked away on a shelf. Neither of his friends knew he had it, which the raccoon was thankful for. If his friends - Bentley being the one he was most worried about - ever caught wind of it, Sly as sure to suffer through a good few hours of lectures, and rambling from the turtle.

Carefully, so as not to announce he was moving around, Sly slipped out from under the blankets. He shivered in the air, but stepped forward as quickly as he dared, to nab the radio. It was a simple, handheld radio with 3 knobs, and a light up display. The name on the bottom proclaimed it as Inspector Fox's, which had Sly smirking when he thought of the beautiful vixen.

Carmelita Fox might be the only officer who could keep up with him, and that was perfectly okay with Sly. He'd come very close to being behind bars thanks to her, but for the raccoon thief, it just added more of a challenge to his career. He'd already said so many times himself, but thieving wouldn't be half as fun if Carmelita wasn't around chasing his tail. That, and she was definitely easy on the eyes. He'd taken this radio from her not more than a few weeks ago, as she'd actually thrown it at him in frustration when he'd 'borrowed' her shock pistol. It didn't pick up as many frequencies as before, seeing as it'd landed heavily on the ground, but Sly had kept it anyway. Sometimes he'd turn it on, and listen in on any sort of cop activity. Plus, there was the added bonus of hearing Carmelita's smooth, Spanish accented voice, and Sly liked the listen to her speak through it; even if he missed her insults thrown at him.

Sly usually had to remind himself, it wasn't because he liked her anything. He certainly thought she beautiful, and cute whenever she was angry at him, but it wasn't much more than just a crush.

Right?

Being as bored as he was, Sly figured it would be good entertainment to listen in, and see if perhaps Carmelita was on the prowl for him, or just giving out reports. Turning it on, he set the radio on his desk, and sat down at the chair, suppressing a cough as he did so. His ears swivelled around to try and catch anyone who might be sneaking up to his room, but caught nothing.

He barely managed to catch the last few words spoken into the radio:

_This is Inspector Fox, reporting a 211 on Rue Saint-Jacques. Suspects are armed, and dangerous. I'm currently pursuing them on foot, and requesting back up. I repeat…_

Sly's eyes widened at hearing what was happening. Even as Carmelita was speaking, gunshots managed to overpower much of what she'd said, and fear rose up in his chest for the vixen. Without a second thought, the raccoon grabbed his cane, and dashed over to the window. He was starting to climb out of the opened window, when the chill air from outside blasted his body, making him shiver.

Hitting himself on the forehead with a groan, he quickly pulled on a sweater, pulled on his boots, and climbed out the window. Grabbing the pipe that stood just outside his window, he put his cane in his mouth, and quickly climbed as much as his lethargic body allowed him to. The adrenaline coursing in his veins, prevented him from truly feeling the cold air, and as he leaped across the rooftops, with the only thing in mind being Carmelita.

Rue Saint-Jacques was not far from his safe house, so he was there no later than 10 minutes after he'd first heard the call. Cursing himself for not bringing the radio with him, he landed with pinpoint accuracy on a flagpole, and searched the streets for any sign of the vixen, or the robbers she'd been pursuing. Sly's chest heaved with each breath, seeing as he'd run full pelt to his location without even realizing that the cold he had prevented him from fully breathing properly.

It was here, that he realized just how much his body was affected by the cold he had. His adrenaline was still pumping, but dizziness suddenly made him sway in the cold air. For some reason, he was sweating as well. Pulling the thick sweater he wore tighter around himself, Sly shuddered where he crouched.

_Maybe this was a bad idea, _he groused to himself. _But I can't let Carmelita get hurt…_

Gunshots had his ears perking up, and he squinted past the sweat running down his face, to where he'd heard it. Finally, he spotted Carmelita ducking behind a discarded crate in an alleyway, with the robbers firing bullets at her relentlessly. The Inspector was unable to do a thing, seeing as she only had her shock pistol, and the robbers seemed to have an endless supply of magazines. That, and Sly noticed that she seemed to be favouring her ankle.

Sly's teeth clenched together, and he quickly wiped the sweat from his eyes, and tensed his legs up to jump from his position. With a suddenly spring, Sly flipped upwards from his position, and caught his cane onto a wire running between the buildings. He put his feet out to catch himself before he ran straight into the wall, and caught a pipe in paw. Luckily, he landed silently behind the robbers, and without them even realizing what was happening, he struck.

His cane caught one of the robbers, a large Doberman with muscles that could rival Muggshot's, around the throat, and pulled him back. He let out barely a gasp of air, before Sly unhooked his cane, and brought it crashing down on the Doberman's head. He was out for the count.

"What the-!" One of the other robbers appeared to hear what had happened, and he spun around. This one was another large elephant, with his sweater nearly bursting at the seams across his broad chest and shoulders. The elephant let out a loud curse, catching the attention of the third robber, this one a rather thin jackal. The two spun around to face Sly, growls escaping their throats, and their faces forming into scowls.

"Who the hell are you?" spat the jackal. He aimed his pistol between Sly's eyes, who appeared wholly unaffected by the idea that he had a gun pointed at his head.

Sly shrugged, and smirked. "Just a guy who was passing through."

A loud bang echoed in the alleyway, but Sly had already ducked under the path of the bullet, and swung his cane around like a battering ram, sinking it straight into the jackal's gut. The jackal staggered away, coughing and spluttering, while the elephant roared with fury, and ran forwards blindly.

The raccoon leaped easily over the charging elephant, and landed with a roll behind him. Sly could feel his lungs burning with the activity he was currently doing, and he was suddenly pulled into another round of hoarse coughing. Distracted, he didn't hear the click of a hammer being pulled back, until he looked up, and saw that the jackal had staggered back to his feet.

Another loud blast sounded off, and Sly ducked before a large shock projectile slammed into the jackal's chest. He let out a yell of pain, before slumping to the ground, his fur smouldering slightly from the blast.

Sly glanced back, and saw that Carmelita had her arms stretched out in front of her, using the crate as a way to hold her aim steady. Her face looked determined, and somehow concerned for the raccoon, as she yelled, "Cooper, don't get distracted now!"

Chuckling softly, Sly stood to his feet, and faced the elephant, who looked flabbergasted at what had happened. His gun was still in hand, but the bravado he'd seemed to posses from before had fled. Sly gave him no chance to react, as he was leaping forward, and striking the elephant across the head. Going down with a loud 'thud', the elephant remained motionless on the ground.

Out of breath, Sly glanced back to see that Carmelita was trying to stagger to her feet, hissing in pain. He was at her side in two strides, gently sweeping her off her feet. Carmelita squeaked in response, and demanded, "put me down!"

Sly obeyed, which surprised the vixen immensely. Usually, the raccoon would be giving her some sort of cheeky remark, and refuse to listen. She was looking him over when he sneezed into his sleeve, and looked up at her. Carmelita could see the exhaustion in his eyes, and how his shoulders were slouched over slightly. He seemed much more out of breath than usual as well.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked.

Sly laughed, and said, "it's just a cold. No need to worry your pretty little head over."

However, he was feeling a bit worse than before, and Sly blamed the running, and cold February air. Luckily, there was not much snow on the ground, but the chill that usually came with winter had not abated in the least. He shivered in his sweater, and wiped some of the sweat from his forehead. Before Carmelita could say a word of protest, he took the cuffs she always had on her person, and walked over to the robbers.

"I suggest you call this in, Inspector," he called back, while he started cuffing the jackal.

Breaking out of her stupor, Carmelita took the radio on her hip, and quickly called in the incident to Interpol. Once that was done, she looked over to see that Sly had rummaged through the garbage bins, and found something to bind them with. It was crude, but at least the robbers weren't going to get away until Interpol got there.

He walked back to her, and said, "well Carmelita, I suggest we get you back to your apartment."

"W-what?" she stammered. Sly could tell that the vixen was extremely agitated at the idea of Sly taking her back to her apartment, but the raccoon wasn't going to hear anything other than that. Of course, he could leave her here, and have her get proper medical attention, but Sly wanted to be sure she was really okay before leaving. And he couldn't be around when Interpol came around, otherwise he'd be thrown in jail.

That, and he wasn't really up to being chased while sick.

Speaking of which, the thief could feel more coughs rising in his chest, and he felt a bit warmer than he really should be, but he shook it off to sweep the wriggling Carmelita into his arms, bridal style. She gasped in shock at the treatment she was receiving.

"Cooper, put me down! I'll charge you with kidnapping if you take me back to my apartment!" Sly had to chuckle at how ridiculous her statement was, but he chose to ignore it. Carmelita shouted profanities at him, in both English, and Spanish, which all fell on deaf ears. When she realized that her struggling was getting her no where, Carmelita fell silent, sulking in his arms.

She had to admit though, that it felt nice to be held close to the raccoon. His strong arms held her tightly, and almost protectively, but she could tell he wasn't at exactly a hundred percent health. For one, he was breathing a bit too hard for having just fought, when usually the vixen never saw the raccoon out of the breath. And for another, he appeared tired, and somewhat sluggish.

However, he noticed her scrutiny, and grinned down at her. "Like what you see?" he teased.

Carmelita flushed angrily, and turned away. "No way, Raccoon."

No other words were exchanged between the two, as Sly walked his way towards her apartment. Which Carmelita suddenly realized was strange, as there was no way he would know where it was… right?

"Cooper, how the hell do you know where I live?" she demanded, once she realized that she recognized the streets they were walking on. Even in the dark, with none of the stores open, and only the streetlights to light their way, the vixen would know this street anywhere. Even now, she spotted her apartment building getting closer. "Cooper!"

"Relax, Carmelita," he said almost breathlessly. He pulled his face away from her, coughing hoarsely, but his grip on her never loosened; that was something Carmelita could admire even in her flustered state.

"Are you alright?" she asked, concern beginning to drift into her voice.

He turned his back against the glass door, and nudged it open. He offered her a tired looking smile. "Not exactly," he admitted. "But that's unimportant now. Do you mind opening the doors so I can get you inside?"

Silently, she obliged, and dug - somewhat difficultly - into her pocket, and pulled out the cardkey used to get inside the building. Once the door buzzed loudly and unlocked, Sly shifted her slightly in his arms, and managed to open it so they could get inside. Somehow, he knew exactly where he was going, but Carmelita said not a word.

She decided against even asking, because all the raccoon would do was give her some sort of cryptic answer.

Once again, she opened the door to her apartment (which she questioned why she was doing so in the first place), and they both stepped in.

"Home sweet home," the raccoon tried to joke, which only earned a set of rolled eyes from the vixen. As Sly gently deposited her on the cream coloured couch in her living room, he crouched in front of her. He grinned again, but only to turn away, coughing. Once he recovered, he said, "now, that wasn't too hard, was it, Carmelita?"

The vixen immediately bristled in annoyance.

"I didn't ask for your help!" Carmelita scowled. As she tried to stand, and put weight on her ankle, she yelped in pain, and quickly sat back on her couch again. Sly was immediately at her side, looking worried. He went to start untying her boots, when a paw on his wrist stopped his actions. "What are you doing?"

Sly quirked a brow at her, and then laughed softly. He suppressed another cough, before continuing. "I'm just checking to see your ankle isn't broken or anything. It might just be sprained, but better safe than sorry, right gorgeous?"

For a moment, the vixen looked suspicious of him, but when she saw the sincerity in his eyes, she sighed, and nodded. "Alright fine."

His fingers quickly untied the laces on her foot, and slowly began to slide it off. Carmelita hissed in pain at the jarring movement, to which Sly offered a quick apology. He had the boot off now, and he carefully rolled her jeans up to check her ankle. It looked swollen, but Sly deduced that it wasn't broken, just sprained.

"Looks like you're in luck," he smiled up at her. He helped her sit so that she was lying across her couch, and placed a few pillows under her foot. Then he stood. "Where's your ice, if you don't mind me asking."

The vixen gaped at him incredulously. "Are you kidding me, Cooper? Where else would they be?"

It seemed to dawn on him how dumb the question was, and he laughed to himself. His face suddenly contorted, and he turned away from her to sneeze into his sleeve. After clearing his throat, he said, "sorry, having a cold doesn't sit well with me."

At this notion, Carmelita's features softened, as she realized that she'd completely forgotten the master thief was ill. As he walked to her kitchen to get a small bag, and the ice cubes, she could hear Sly sniffling, and coughing as he went.

"You came and helped me, even though you were sick…" she mumbled to herself. However, his hearing was impeccable as ever.

"Right on the dot, my lovely _señorita_," he grinned at her. He gingerly put the ice on her swollen ankle, making sure that it wasn't going to slide off. "I couldn't just sit back, and watch you get hurt."

Carmelita sighed. Silence fell over the two, as both retreated into their thoughts. Sly was sitting right beside her injured ankle, his eyes unfocused on a point in the wall. It was here, that Carmelita really got a good look at him. He really did look awful, with his normally well groomed fur, dishevelled, and matted with what looked like sweat. Even as she watched, he coughed again, hiding his muzzle behind his sleeve.

"Cooper…" she started, feeling a pang of guilt grip her heart. Why did he have to do this kind of thing for her? It would certainly be much easier to hate him if he wasn't so kind towards her. When he looked over at her, his chocolate brown eyes imploring, she bit her lip. "Thank you, Cooper. You always seem to have a knack for saving me. First from Clockwerk… Now this. Why do you do it?"

He didn't reply straight away.

"Well, Carmelita," he started, "I couldn't just sit back, and watch someone as lovely as yourself be hurt. It's not in my code of being a gentleman, you know." Sly offered her a weak smile, but noticed that she looked unconvinced. He sighed. "I'd probably be lying if I said I only did this because I owed you for something, because that's not the case. No, there's probably something else to all this."

"Like what?" she pressed for an answer. Carmelita really was curious to know what was driving the master thief, if only to try to distract herself from a strange feeling rising in her chest.

"I…" Sly stammered, and looked away from her, the flush on his cheeks darkening slightly. When he gathered the courage to look up again, he said, "I can't really put it into words. It'd probably take me too long."

Carmelita sighed, but suddenly laughed as she realized that the usually suave Sly Cooper, was actually at a loss for words. Her laughter took a deeper turn, and she found herself doubling over at the thought. Despite the fact that she was laughing _at_ him, a pleasurable shiver ran up the raccoon's spine. The sound of her laughter was like a choir of angels for the raccoon, and he wanted to hear more of it. Carmelita noticed that Sly looked slightly flustered at her laughter, until she managed to calm herself down, while wiping tears of mirth away. "I-I'm sorry, but it's just very unlike you to be like this."

He frowned. "It's the cold."

Now he was trying to save face.

Carmelita shook her head, and tried to hide the growing grin she had. Normally, it would have appalled her to think that she was so easily speaking with the master thief - in her own apartment no less! - but at this moment she didn't care. It was actually rather nice to have Sly all alone, just talking, or laughing together. It was almost like… a date.

She squashed that idea as soon as it formed.

Tearing herself from her thoughts, she looked over to see that Sly was now kneeling next to her, making Carmelita yelp. "Cooper? What the hell are you doing?"

He grinned dazedly up at her, and said, "sorry, I just wanted a closer look at you smiling. I never get to see you this way."

Before she knew it, Sly was leaning upwards slightly, in the very same position that they'd been in at Krack-Karov volcano a few months ago. A blush splayed across her cheeks at the memory, and at the situation now. He was getting closer to her, his lips now mere centimetres away from her own. Carmelita was about to pull away, but a small voice stopped her.

_To hell with it._

She leaned in, until their lips met, and Carmelita nearly melted into it, just like she had before at Krack-Karov. His lips were soft, and warm, something she remembered very clearly. She felt his paw gently run through her hair, while her own paws tightened on his shoulders.

Their kiss lasted for what seemed like an eternity, until they both parted, breathless.

They stared into each other's eyes, until Carmelita pulled away, blushing under her fur. She removed her paws from his shoulders, and placed a paw on his chest, feeling his heart beating furiously under her fingers. "Cooper, if you get me sick, I'll skin you alive," she threatened, but there was no real heat behind it.

He chuckled, facing away from her to cough again. Then he grinned cheekily at her. "I make no promises, Carmelita. But I could steal it away from you if you'd like."

She blushed an even brighter red, and pushed him away this time. "You just can't keep your mind out of the gutter, can you Raccoon?"

Laughing, he stood, and sat back down in his original position. "Maybe. But I'm not telling you all my secrets, gorgeous."

Rolling her eyes at the flirtatious comments, Carmelita sighed. "Well, unless there's something else you want to pull off here, then I think you should get going."

"Kicking me out so soon?" he coughed. This made the vixen regret telling him to leave, seeing as he was still out of breath, and from the short moment they'd been close to each, she'd felt the heated flesh under his fur.

Carmelita bit her lip again, a nervous habit she'd developed from a young age. Then she sighed. "Alright Cooper. You win. But I'm only letting you stay _just this once_."

His face seemed to brighten, and then show relief at the same time. He sagged slightly against the couch, chuckling softly. "Well that's a relief. I thought you'd be nice, and kick me out of your apartment when I'm so obviously ill."

In a dramatic show, he sneezed again, and shivered. But Carmelita saw through the act, mostly because he was smiling the entire time. The vixen chose to ignore him, and grabbed the blanket she usually tossed over the couch, and threw it to him. He took it with a thanks, and wrapped it around himself, and - much to her surprise - threw most of it over her legs and stomach.

"Can't have you getting sick too," he explained.

Again, Carmelita chose not to say a word, but instead, leaned her head back against a cushion.

"Good night, Carmelita."

"It's Inspector Fox to you, Cooper," she retorted, silently berating herself for not telling him off sooner. Before sleep managed to claim her, she managed to slur out, "don't try anything funny…"

He chuckled softly from his spot on the couch. "I'll try to control myself, Carmelita…"

If Carmelita could have, she would have kicked him, but instead, she settled for tossing a cushion at his head. She didn't even see if it hit him or not, before she drifted off to sleep.

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Daylight streamed into her apartment, waking the vixen from her slumber. Blinking away the fogginess in her vision, Carmelita sat up carefully. Her ankle felt much better, but the bag of ice from before had slipped off during the night. For some reason, she felt warm, and extremely comfortable, something that wouldn't come from sleeping on the couch. It was then that she noticed she was actually in her bed.

She blinked, and sat up, noticing that she was alone, and the apartment was silent.

"Cooper?" she called hesitantly.

No one answered her calls, but she knew that he couldn't be around any more. For some reason, this made her heart ache. She glanced at her clock, and saw that it was nearly noon. Thankfully, she didn't have to go into work today, but she wondered what might have happened after she left the scene with Sly. Speaking of which, her eyes were drawn to the familiar white, and blue raccoon card sitting on her bedside table that she hadn't noticed at first.

She plucked it from its perch, and noticed that there was a note from Sly on it saying:

_I'm sorry I had to leave you like this, _mi amor_. But I figured it would be better to let you get your beauty sleep, and for me to go back before my gang kills me. Stay off that ankle of your's, and I assure you that I'll be back to full health for our next midnight rendezvous._

_- Sly_

Carmelita shook her head, and opened one of the cabinets on the bedside table. She pulled out the bottom of it, and deposited the calling card there, where it joined the many others that Sly had left her over the many years she'd been chasing her.

She wasn't sure why she kept them, but the little notes he left her were certainly enough to send her heart aflutter. A sigh escaped her, when she realized something else.

_It seems as though you might have stolen something more than just jewels, and artefacts, Ringtail…_

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**I am not good at this one-shot thing, haha. Why am I even posting this. Anyway, I hope anybody who happened to read this, enjoyed it. I'll try not to delete it off the site like so many other stories before. Let me know what you all thought.**


	2. Sick Day II

**Suddenly, another two-shot. Anyway, I want to personally thank **ForeverFreelancer, **and** Gauntlet-Writer.921 **for encouraging another part to this supposed one-shot. Also, a shout out to **Awesome Sly, Mitch, cheesebread222, cheesy teal'c, Scar, eclipsed heart **and lastly, **Oh **for taking the time to review and/or add this story to your favourites. All of you are great, and I hope you enjoy the second part to this, and that it isn't at all disappointing, haha.**

**And to answer a question **Oh** posed in a review; yes, I am in fact Canadian, but not from Quebec. I actually looked up a map of Paris with street names and the like, and **_Rue Saint-Jacques _**was one of the street names that stuck out to me, so I used that as to give a bit more 'realism' to the story, haha. I actually had no clue that there was a street named that in Quebec. **

**I applaud you, if you actually read through all this.**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sly Cooper and friends. They are owned by SuckerPunch.

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**Sick Day II**

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Carmelita Fox was getting impatient.

Her tapping foot against the tiled floor of the _Musée d'Orsay_, where she was currently standing in, echoed in the large, cavernous room. A quick glance at her watch told her was nearly 1 AM, and much to her chagrin, Cooper had yet to appear. After she'd received a calling card from him - something he usually did whenever he was going to appear - Carmelita had quickly made her way to the museum without a second thought. She was currently on the bottom floor of the large hall that housed many French paintings, sculptures, and the like that were at least a few centuries old. Several display cases, and marble statues stood out in the darkened room like ghost white imprints of a century long passed. A large window was situated right across the hallway-like room with frosted glass, and iron wrought grating across it. An ornate clock with roman numeral signs on its face, ticked the hours away innocently, almost mocking her with its noise. The museum was empty of people and sound, the only thing breaking it being the impatient tapping of her foot, and the ticking from the large clock. Carmelita had first appeared at the _Musée d'Orsay _about 4 hours ago, and the damnable thief had yet to appear at the promised time on the calling card.

Speaking of which… She took out the card she'd put in her pocket for safe keeping, and glared down at the scribbled time, and location on the back. The words had been written in blue ink, and although it amused her to see that Cooper had written it with an extremely shaky hand, it also brought a bit of concern fluttering in her stomach.

Normally, his writing was fluid, startling her at how neat it was; his writing even brought shame to her own. But this calling card… The way it was written, made Carmelita wonder if he'd simply not cared about being careful, or if something else was wrong.

Sighing, she sought out a bench, and sat down on it. Her fingers continued to clench to the raccoon head, her eyes unfocused on it. Unconsciously, she brought her left leg up, and crossed it so that her ankle lay across her right knee. Idly rubbing the once sore ankle, it'd been about 3 days since Cooper had gone out of his way to rescue her from those thugs.

One of her fingers touched her lips, where she could swear she still felt the warmth of his lips there.

A red hot blush crossed her cheeks, and with an angry sigh, Carmelita stuffed the calling card back in her pocket, crossing her arms across her chest. As much as she tried to deny it, the vixen had to admit that the kiss was rather nice; even if she hadn't exactly planned on it. Although it annoyed her that the raccoon had so easily stolen _another_ kiss from her, and he'd somehow brought her back to her apartment, she'd actually enjoyed the short moment they'd been together. Especially the way he'd seemed so concerned for her, even though he'd been ill at the time.

Silently, she wondered if he was feeling better now.

Her ears perked up suddenly, when a noise from further down the hallway like room reached her location. Scanning the darkened room, she saw nothing stir, but immediately tensed and stood. Her shock pistol was soon in paw, pointing directly towards the area where she'd though she'd heard the noise. Her ears continued to swivel around, trying to catch any other sound in the museum, even as she made her way carefully to the darkened corner.

She passed many still statues, looking around to make sure nothing was hiding behind them as she passed through. To make her life easier, she clicked the light atop her shock pistol on, and scanned the area again to see if the light had alerted anything else.

Nothing.

Undeterred, she continued on her way, still keeping a sharp eye out for anything. Soon, she came to the corner of the room where she'd thought the noise had originated from, and much to her frustration, there was nothing, save for a small mouse that quickly scurried away from her flashlight. Cursing, Carmelita stood up straighter from her poised position, and sighed.

Her tail flicked irritably behind her, and she made another quick sweep of the room.

The only thing that greeted her, were statues, and faces from the paintings.

"Stupid raccoon isn't coming," she muttered to herself. The familiar weight of her shock pistol was now back on her hip as she raked her fingers through her dark hair. "I should have known he would just be playing me for a fool.

Suddenly, something akin to the sensation of finger tips ghosting up her spine, made Carmelita's fur stand on end.

"Evening Inspector, I hope you weren't waiting for too long," came a smooth sounding voice from Carmelita's ringed ear. She started, nearly leaping out of her fur as she whipped around, her shock pistol in paw within a blink of an eye. The end of it hit against a familiar raccoon's chest, who was grinning cheekily down at her. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Cooper!" she cried, eyes narrowing slightly.

He was certainly much closer to her than she would deem appropriate. One of his paws rested on the shock pistol still pointed to his chest subtly moving it, while the other had hooked around her waist where she could feel his cane resting against the small of her back. The two of them were flush against one another which had Carmelita reddened at the close contact. She tried to wriggle away from the embrace, but his grip was firm. Her eyes narrowed even further.

"If you don't let me go right now, I'll shoot you," she threatened, with her finger just depressing the trigger. "I'm sure you remember how painful it is to be shot with this."

He chuckled softly, but the grimace that passed his face didn't go unnoticed by the vixen. Surprisingly, the raccoon complied with her wishes, and let her go, stepping away a bit. His boots clicked against the floor, as he treated her to another dazzling smile. Carmelita had to remind herself not to fall for his debonair tricks, even though she had to admit, he was rather handsome when he smiled at her.

When they were further away from each other, Carmelita managed to get a good look at him, and noticed that he wasn't dressed in his normal thieving attire, with his red backpack and blue sweater missing from the equation. He was dressed in a thick navy coloured sweater, with a scarf wrapped around his neck. His hat was settled - as always - on his head, while his ears were pressed just so against is skull, which had the vixen wondering why they were doing so. If she wasn't mistaken, he also looked slightly flushed under his fur.

Sly seemed to notice her scrutiny, and tugged slightly at the scarf. "It's pretty chilly outside," he admitted with another flash of his teeth. "Looks like we might get snow tonight."

However, she wasn't much in the mood for meaningless conversation, as her patience had run thin. Whirring from her shock pistol made his ears perk up, and his eyes widen slightly as she brought it forward, pointing directly at his chest.

"Cooper, you're under arrest for robbery," she said in a commanding voice. Her face left nothing to imagination.

"Now, now," he murmured softly. His paws were up by his head, but Carmelita could see that he was tensed in a way that could have him leaping off in any direction he pleased within the blink of an eye. In order to compensate for this, she herself shifted her feet so that she could follow; this didn't go unnoticed by him. "I haven't done anything, and you're going to arrest me? I haven't even started running yet!"

"Your calling card is proof enough!" she barked in terse tones. "If you weren't so cocky, you'd realize that warning Interpol when you're going to steal something would have prevented this situation!"

"See, that's where you're wrong," he winked, wagging a finger at her as though chastising a child. "I don't warn Interpol. I warn _you_, my lovely _señorita_."

Chills ran down her spine at hearing him speak like that to her. She tried to hide the blush that appeared across her cheeks, but much to her dismay, he noticed, and his grin widened even more to see it.

"Shut up, Cooper!" she finally managed to say. "Either you come quietly, or I'll shoot you here and now!"

Despite her threats, he seemed to be unimpressed by them, and simply moved his head ever so slightly, so that he was looking at her sideways. His one brown eye continued to lock sights with hers, as he said, "catch me if you can, Inspector."

With that said, he was off, startling the vixen with his speed. She soon recovered, and growled deep in her throat. Her shock pistol sent vibrations down her arms, as she shot towards his retreating figure. The projectile hit right above his head, where he ducked behind a display case. All the while, his voice rang back at her.

"You'll never catch me with aim like that!"

"_COOPER!_"

His antagonizing tones, although playful, sent Carmelita into a flurry of anger. She gave chase, using her rather impressive hearing to catch any sounds he made while running. Footsteps just in front of her warned her that the thief was only a few metres in front, and true enough, she saw his ringed tail just ahead of her.

Sly looked back, and saw her. But instead of looking worried, he seemed elated that she was catching up.

"Looks like you're getting better, gorgeous!" he hollered back her, laughing when another shock bullet shattered a light above him. The glass tinkling to the floor went unnoticed by them both, as Sly reached the large window, grabbed the grating across it, and quickly scaled the wall.

Carmelita hissed in anger, and tried to shoot him off from the wall, but he was always just a step ahead of her, the bullets just ruffling his fur. Before she could get another bead on him, he crouched on the open window where he'd crawled in from, and said, "isn't this the life, Carm?"

A bullet answered his calls, but he had already leaped out the window, his laughing echoing back to her. Carmelita growled, and using the grating like he had, climbed up as fast as she could. As soon as she hit the pavement on the rooftop, she was then giving chase. It was incredibly cold, and shudders shook her body, her breath coming out in soft clouds in front of her maw. She thanked anything that could hear that she'd wore a thicker jacket, and sweater underneath than she normally would.

For a moment, she thought she'd lost him, but looked over, and saw that he was only a couple rooftops away. That was a surprise, and although there was a fleeting thought of wonder as to why that was so, Carmelita shook it off, and quickly tore after him.

His ringed tail swayed in the wind, and although he was running as fast as he could, the vixen noticed that something seemed a bit off about him. His footsteps seemed a bit unsure, almost wavering every once in a while, causing him to stumble slightly. And yet he'd push himself further regardless, leaping across gaps in the buildings just as easily as he would walking. However, she was shocked to see that when he landed on another rooftop, he fell into a heap, rolling for a moment before he landed on his chest with a loud thud. Carmelita leapt after him, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs as she tried to reassure herself that he was fine.

Still unsure if this was all a trick, the vixen gave the panting raccoon a wide berth. Her shock pistol was trained unwaveringly on him however, as she walked around him. Sly looked up at her, his eyes somewhat dulled in the night, as he tried to give her a smile; but it looked off to her.

Something clicked. "Cooper, are you still sick?"

He didn't answer straight away, trying to catch his breath. It was starting to make sense to her now. From the thick sweater he wore, to the fact that he was so out of breath for only having run for a short while, when usually he be at ease. She could see sweat matting his fur, and grew concerned when he pulled his hat off and wiped his forehead.

"You could say that," the raccoon finally managed. He gave her another weak grin, as he tried pushed himself off the ground. His arms were shaking as Carmelita watched She felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to help him up. But she stayed put, watching as he rose to his knees, wavering where he crouched. "But I'm fine."

Her aim faltered. "No, you're not."

Although she desperately wanted to go and help him, her ever constant black and white views on the law, cemented her to the spot. Her heart screamed for her to take action, and to help the poor raccoon thief up, while her head screamed for justice - this was the opportunity to finally take the thief in. After a few seconds of debating, she listened to the one thing that mattered; her heart.

The battery on the shock pistol slowly shut off, the humming that usually came with an active pistol fading. His ears flickered, as Sly looked up at her, a questioning look in his eyes. Carmelita sighed.

"You really have a way of manipulating me, don't you?" she grumbled, mostly to herself, but knew that the raccoon would hear it. As she strode forward, she holstered her shock pistol, and kneeled next to him. One of her paw gripped his upper arm, a frown marring her features when she realized that he was shaking - possibly not from the cold. Before he could say a word of protest, Carmelita placed her paw against his forehead, tsk-ing when she realized that he was running a fever. "Now I _really _can't take you in."

He looked surprised, and blinked owlishly up at her.

"You're not going to arrest me?" he panted heavily, keeping his brown eyes trained on hers. The almost innocent way he posed the question, had Carmelita faltering, as she realized that - once again - she couldn't go through with it. She couldn't do it, especially not when she was seeing the way he appeared on the verge of keeling over. A little voice told her that it her own fault for chasing him from the museum, but she shook it off, and sighed.

"No, I'm not," she confirmed.

Again, the raccoon appeared surprised, and he grinned almost cautiously up at her. "Are you sure you're… not just pulling my leg here?"

"If I really wanted to, I could take you in right now," she snapped. To emphasize her supposed threat, she put a paw over the cuffs on her hip, and shot him a look. Immediately, Sly's eyes widened slightly as he tried to laugh, even though he had no breath to do so.

"Sorry," he apologized, the sincerity clear in his voice.

Carmelita simply sighed, and helped the raccoon stand, concerned when his knees appeared to not support his weight. Another frown pulled at her lips.

"I can't believe you came out like this," she chastised. Much to both his - and her own - surprise she pulled him closer, throwing one of his arms across her shoulders, while her other arm slid behind his back. Her paw landed gently, almost cautiously, on his waist. She blushed again, but hid her face away to make sure he didn't see it. Fortunately, he seemed more concentrated on not putting his full weight on her, as he sagged slightly, trying his best to keep standing. Shivers, and heat emanated from his body, which made Carmelita grimace, as she realized that he had once more, done the idiotic thing, and gone out when he was so ill.

"How the hell your gang let you come out like this, I'll never know."

A chuckle sounded from him, as he was pulled along. Carmelita carefully, and slowly, led him towards the staircase that they could access from the rooftop to get him to streets.

"They don't… actually know," he muttered softly, stumbling slightly. He was saved from a trip onto the ground by Carmelita, who steadied herself to prevent the fall. She threw him an incredulous stare.

"What do you mean, 'they don't know?'"

"I mean… I snuck out." Sly shifted his arms slightly, so that he could walk a bit straighter. "Bentley 'grounded' me for a few days after the stunt I pulled 3 days ago. I hate being confined, so I… snuck out, and sent you a calling card."

He gave her a weak smile, to which the vixen continued to gape at him. She couldn't believe this. How could he be so _stupid?_

"Are you serious?" They had both stopped walking now, Carmelita staring at him, while Sly appeared to be almost falling asleep where he stood. "You couldn't just sneak out to a club? You had to come and try to _steal?_"

"I couldn't break my promise…" he murmured softly. Coughs suddenly rumbled from deep within his chest. He hastily pulled away to let them loose, using his paw to cover his mouth. When he recovered his breath, he continued. "And Coopers don't break promises."

"Then you must have a knack for doing stupid things," Carmelita huffed out, tugging him along as best as she could again. He was starting to feel like a sack of potatoes on her shoulders, and the vixen wondered how he could be so heavy without being that much taller, or bigger than herself.

Another chuckle escaped him. "I wouldn't say stupid, _mon cheri_… It's more like I enjoy taking risks."

If Carmelita could have, she would have punched him.

So she conceding with grumbling irritably to herself, even as she opened the door to the staircase and they began the arduous task of walking towards street level. Sly continued to cough every once in a while, starting to lean more, and more against her. The vixen's shoulders ached, and she sorely wished that she could set him down, but determination prevented her from doing such a thing. She couldn't just leave him out on the streets by himself when he was so obviously ill (even if it was his own fault), but something sparked in her mind.

Her apartment was far from the _Musée d'Orsay _and there was no way she could tug him all the way there without any struggle. Calling a taxi was out of the question, and although she considered taking him back to her apartment in her own car, their little chase across the rooftops had brought them at least 5 km (3 miles) away from the museum; a trip she wasn't willing to take all the way back with him hanging on her shoulders.

A sigh of irritation escaped from her, as she shifted Sly's arm across her shoulders slightly. He seemed to come back to his senses, as he looked around for a bit, and then said, "I know this area."

Carmelita glanced over at him, and quirked a brow.

"My gang and I live around here," he murmured softly, almost as if he was saying it to himself. But he'd - of course - said it out loud, which he suddenly realized. The raccoon looked up at her, his eyes wide while he stammered, "um, I-I mean. My gang and I have passed this area before."

Her eyes narrowed. "Look, Cooper. We're far from my apartment here, and there's no way you, and I can walk all the way back to the _Musée d'Orsay _with you like this. So either you lead me your safe house, or I leave you here on the streets."

Sly seemed to consider her threat, and for a wild second, Carmelita thought he might actually tell her to leave and he'd go home himself. But the raccoon seemed to realize that he was in no condition to go anywhere himself, as the vixen herself could attest to; she could swear the heat from his fever was penetrating his sweater. He sighed softly.

"Alright, I'll take you there... But don't be surprised if Bentley and Murray freak out."

She rolled her eyes. "Trust me, I can handle them."

As they continued on their way, Sly leading her towards a cluster of back alleys, he chuckled. "Just make sure you won't arrest _them_ on the spot. I kind of need them around."

"I won't make any promises," she quipped, to which Sly started laughing, soon devolving into hoarse sounding coughs. Carmelita winced at the volume of them. "Have you been taking medicine?"

"Bentley forces it down my throat sometimes," he coughed. "But it hasn't been doing much."

He pointed her out towards a door in the side of a building that she would have never noticed before if it hadn't been pointed out. It was extremely ordinary, with nothing to indicate that people were actually living inside, and she silently wondered if that was why Interpol had never found them. They'd always assumed he would be hiding away in the derelict of areas - not in the middle of Paris itself. She made a mental note to try and remember the area, but quickly reminded herself that Sly and his gang would obviously move locations soon after she left. Sly lifted a paw, and knocked on the door, once, then paused, and then knocked twice more in rapid succession. It was some sort of code to let the others know that it was him, and Carmelita wondered what the gang would do when they saw her.

She soon got her answer.

The door burst open, with the panicked faces of a small turtle, and a large pink hippo taking up the door space. "Sly! Where have you been? Murray and I have been worried! What happened? Are you-" Bentley's words died in mid sentence, his eyes now bulging from their sockets as he saw Sly with _Inspector Fox _supporting him. The turtle appeared to be hyperventilating, which Carmelita found slightly amusing. "I-Inspector Fox! What's going o-on? Sly are you under arrest? Why is _I-Inspector F-Fox _here?"

Sly soon put a halt to the stammering turtle's rant with a paw. He paused to cough, before breathing out weakly, "stop before you give yourself an aneurism. The lovely Inspector and I just happened to bump into each other tonight, and she was nice enough to bring me back to our safe house."

Bentley looked like he was going to suffer from a heart attack. Murray jumped in now, looking extremely wary of the foxy Inspector. But Carmelita spied curiosity in his large brown eyes. "A-are you okay? You look pretty bad."

Offering his friends a weak smile, the raccoon shook his head slightly. "Not really. Sorry pal, but looks like this cold's really taken a toll on me."

To emphasize his point, he leaned a bit heavier on Carmelita, earning a huff from the vixen. He looked at her apologetically, but she noticed that he wasn't lying at all. Sly really did look worse than before, as he was just a notch paler than before, and he was still breathing heavily.

Carmelita hefted the suddenly sagging raccoon up a bit higher. She grunted softly, as she realized that he was now starting to keel over. "A little help?" she pleaded, eying the raccoon with a worried look.

Murray was quick on the uptake, and took Sly's full weight off the vixen. She sighed in relief, rolling her shoulders slightly, as she watched Murray help the sick raccoon into the safe house. She was about to follow, concern still clouding her judgement, when something stopped her entry. Bentley was blocking her path, looking wary, worried, and panicked all the at the same time. He was shaking slightly as he tried to make himself look much bigger than he really was; which was silly, as the turtle was a clear foot shorter than she was.

"Sorry Inspector Fox, b-but maybe it's best you didn't come in. I don't know _w-why_ Sly brought you here, but I-I can't let you in or I'll be force to do… something?" His stammered words made his threats appear empty, especially when his voice squeaked uncertainly at the end.

Carmelita rolled her eyes again at the absurdity of it. She was about to speak, when a weak voice sounded from inside the safe house.

"Bentley, let her in."

She looked over, and saw the large hippo standing at the base of a staircase, with Sly using him as a means of standing. "C'mon buddy, she won't do anything." Another round of coughs caused Sly to stop speaking, but when he got his breath back, he continued. "Trust me. She helped me big time today; it's the least we can do."

The turtle looked as though he wanted to defy the wishes of his leader, but conceded defeat under Sly's pleading eyes.

"Fine. _Fine!_" he cried, throwing his arms up in the air, even as he marched away from the door, and Carmelita. "See if I care if she arrests you! I'm not going to break you out!"

Sly chuckled softly, and called after the turtle's retreating back, "yeah I love you too, Bentley."

All he received was a grumble. Despite the fact that she was effectively in the presence of her enemies, Carmelita giggled at the display before her. She'd always thought that Sly Cooper and his gang were strictly professionals, not ones to let emotions get in the way of their heists and the like. But seeing them like this, told the vixen that they weren't just members of the same gang, but rather like brothers. It was an interesting dynamic to behold.

Sly seemed to noticed her laughter, and smiled at her. "Just follow me, and Murray, alright? Bentley's not going to be a gracious host right now."

She nodded, and followed closely behind Murray and Sly, noting with a slight pang in her heart, just how close they were. The hippo appeared largely concerned with Sly, carefully helping him up the stairs, and finally to the raccoon's room. When Carmelita stepped in, she hadn't expected to see such a normal looking room. The walls were painted in a pastel blue, with wooden floors, and a bed pressed against one of the walls. There wasn't much on the walls, save for some newspaper clippings Sly had obviously tacked up himself, and what looked like a drawer of clothes against another wall. A desk was also present, messily kept, with discarded papers strewn across its surface, and an overfilled wastebasket on the side. Carmelita watched as Murray helped Sly onto his bed, and even went as far as to pull the scarf around Sly's neck off, much to the raccoon's embarrassment. She wondered silently, if perhaps both of his gang members treated him like this because he was the youngest. She tucked that away into the back of her mind, thinking that maybe one day she'd ask him.

Wait, did she really just think that?

Shaking her head, Carmelita blinked when she saw Murray leave the room, giving her a bit of a shy, toothy grin, before he closed the door. Silence fell over the room, as the vixen realized that she was alone with Cooper - _again. _At the moment though, he seemed highly unconcerned with her presence, as he lay back in bed with a soft sigh. She stepped forward uncertainly, as she noticed that his eyes were closed, and she wondered if perhaps coming into his safe house was a bad idea.

She'd taken one step towards the door, when his voice sounded softly from his location. "Don't leave yet."

Turning, she saw that he had cracked an eye open, and was grinning lazily at her. Carmelita huffed, and crossed her arms across her chest. "You can't tell me what to do, Cooper."

"No," he agreed. He shifted over slightly, and glanced at a clock that was on the desk. "But it's almost 2 AM, and I'm sure you don't want to walk all the way back to your apartment, do you?"

She blinked, realizing that he was right. It was late, and despite all the excitement of the night, Carmelita _was_ tired. Something else popped into mind though. "Where will I sleep?"

Sly patted the mattress beside himself, waggling a brow at her. "This bed's big enough for both of us."

The effect was immediate. Carmelita's eyes widened, her cheeks turned bright red, and she became so flummoxed she couldn't even string together a proper sentence. It took her a full minute to compose herself, but when she did, she could barely keep her voice down. "_What? Are you insane Cooper? Just what are you trying to pull?_"

His laughter had her wanting to grab something and throw it at him. Sobering, Sly shook his head at her.

"I'm not trying to pull anything. But I'm tired, and you are too. At least we can get some sleep." One of his paws pressed against his heart, the effect of his solemn vow ruined by the coughs that passed his mouth. "I promise I won't do anything, _mi amor_. You have my word as a Cooper."

Any other girl would have completely fallen for the suave raccoon's words; unfortunately, Carmelita was just like any other girl. Almost cautiously, she stepped forward, eyeing him critically for anything that could give away any ulterior motives. His brown eyes were sincere though, so she sighed, and lay down next to him carefully. He inched over ever so slightly, so that he was almost right against the wall, but sighed softly as he obviously felt exhaustion running through his limbs. They were both on their sides, staring at one another, Carmelita still slightly tense, and Sly appearing as though he was drifting off to sleep again.

It'd been a long night, and his fever hadn't appeared to broken just yet.

Carmelita felt concern well in her heart again. She pressed a paw to his cheek, running her fingers through the soft fur there. His eyes fluttered open, offering her a tired smile.

"What's wrong?" he murmured.

She sighed, and as though she wasn't in control of her body, she leaned her head forward, so that they were both nearly nose to nose. Her forehead pressed against his, and he blinked at her, looking a bit taken aback.

"Carm?"

"This is something _mi mamá _used to do," she said softly, just barely above a whisper. She could feel his warm breath against her lips, and a familiar memory of his lips against hers rose up in her mind. But she resisted the urge to close the distance between them. "She used to say that if you do this, you can call the fever out from the sick person. Maybe it'll help you…"

He was silent, taking in what she'd said. Finally, he closed his eyes, just managing to whisper back to her before sleep claimed him, "your mom was a smart woman…"

Reopening her eyes, she saw that he had slipped off to sleep. She made no move to shift from her position. She stared at him, noting his heated flesh against her own, and how he appeared kind of cute when he was asleep. Again, she was aware of his breath against her lips, and although she'd tried her best to resist, she finally caved into her desires. Carmelita leaned in, and pressed her lips against his, stealing a kiss from him while he slept.

Ironically, it sort of made her feel like a thief herself.

Pulling away, she smiled to herself, and intertwined her fingers with his, closing her eyes.

"Good night, Ringtail."

* * *

Sly woke up slowly, wondering just what had pulled him out from the dreamless sleep he'd been having. He blinked away the grit in his eyes, and noticed that it was much lighter in his room than before. That, and that his bed felt somewhat cold, as though he was missing something.

"Carm?" he asked to the silent room.

Of course, nobody answered him, but he sat up anyway, wanting to see with his own eyes. He felt oddly rested, and energetic; much better than he had for the past few days where he was sick. Glancing around, he confirmed that his room was, indeed, empty. Oddly enough, he felt a bit saddened by that, but it should have been expected, considering how the vixen had been acting towards him last night.

He cleared his throat slightly, as it still felt a bit scratchy, but luckily, there were no other indications of coughs. As he was about to stand up from his bed, he noticed that his desk had been cleaned.

Curious, he walked over, and saw that a single sheet of folded paper was lying in the middle of the desk. He picked it up, and unfolded it to quickly scan what it said. When he saw the written words, a grin covered his face.

_Next time you try to keep your promises, make sure that you're feeling better. I don't want to have to haul your tail half way across Paris. _

_Until next time, raccoon._

Yes it was short. And yes, it certainly was impersonal, and rather curt, but for Sly, it was one of the better things he could have received from the vixen. He chuckled, rereading the note, noticing that her writing was actually quite horrible. He coughed slightly clearing his throat again, but also noticed that for once he wasn't feeling as though he was caught in perpetual warmth.

He couldn't confirm it himself obviously, but Sly's grin only grew wider, as he realized that he was actually feeling at his best since he'd first gotten sick. Quietly, he tucked the note into a small locked drawer where he kept various things that were special to him, including a picture of his parents together, a magnifying glass Bentley had given him when he was a kid, and various drawings Murray had given him.

_Well, Carmelita. It seems as though your mom was right about it. But I suspect you did more than just that._

Another chuckle escaped him, as he knew that the vixen had stolen a kiss from him last night. He'd feigned sleep to see what she'd do, and sure enough, she'd taken the initiative. The feel of her lips was still fresh in his mind, but shook the thoughts from mind as he went to leave his room.

He could dwell on those memories later.

Right now, he had to go downstairs, and face Bentley's wrath.

* * *

**Phew, that's finally over. I apologize if this seemed to drag on, haha. I just tried to add a bit more Sly/Carmelita moments, because my stories seriously lack it. Cut me some slack here! **

**Also, please excuse any spelling/grammar mistakes you might see in this. It's nearly 3 AM, and I wanted to get this up because I promised someone I'd have it up last week, but that didn't happen. I'll get back to fixing those when I get some decent sleep.**

**Regardless, I hope you all enjoyed it!**


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